


An Unlikely Solace

by GrimmStormborn



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Bhalla is not the most affectionate person y'all, Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Drabble, F/M, Gen, but he feels a little here and there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmStormborn/pseuds/GrimmStormborn
Summary: We all know of the women Bhalla had desired, killed, and caged in his lifetime. But what do we know of the one woman who became an unlikely solace to him?





	An Unlikely Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Baahubali Sidelined Characters Challenge (on Tumblr) by Avani.

**An Unlikely Solace**

**Disclaimer: Canon character(s) mentioned in the following drabble belong to the creator(s) of the world of Baahubali.**

**Summary: We all know of the women Bhalla had desired, killed, and caged in his lifetime. But what do we know of the one woman who became an unlikely solace to him?**

 

* * *

 

 _“She isn’t going to make it, my King,”_ the royal healer had whispered in his ear as he entered his wife’s chamber.

If Bhallaladeva was affected by this piece of news, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes flitted over his exhausted wife on a bed that was now glistening with red stains all over; and then he moved past the bed, to the midwife who was holding a bundle in her arms.

“A son, Your Majesty,” she whispered, almost as if she was relieved with the gender of the baby that the queen had battled to give birth to.

A smirk spread across Bhalla’s lips as he took his son in his arms and took a long look at him. “Good,” was all he said. And then the baby began screaming his little lungs out, and he immediately passed the baby on to the midwife again.

“My…King…” croaked a voice from behind him, and Bhalla took a second or two before he turned around to look at her.

Arpana was holding her hand out to him, as if calling him to her. Usually, he would ignore her, but he decided to oblige her this time. She was at the brink of her death, after all.

He sat next to her grudgingly, making sure to find a spot not soiled by the blood that couldn’t seem to be controlled, by the looks of sheer panic on the healers’ faces.

Bhalla gauged her appearance, and concluded that perhaps no one could save her already. She was pale, perspiring and barely alive from almost two full days of labour, and her fingers, which had wrapped themselves around his hand, were cold to touch.

Yet, Bhalla had nothing to say to her. He sat still, a frown on his face. Onlookers might mistake it to be a deep concern for his visibly weak wife, but Arpana knew better, of course. He was getting impatient. He had things to attend to. The kingdom needs to know of the birth of his son – the heir to his throne.

Arpana was obviously trying to tell him something while his mind was elsewhere, and Bhalla was annoyed.

“What?” he snapped, and Arpana took a deep breath, forcing all of her remaining energy into words.

“Don’t ruin him.”

“Arpana,” he growled, his hand tightening threateningly, painfully, over her fragile one.

“Please…” Arpana begged, life evidently slipping slowly away from her.

Bhalla only glared at her for a full minute, but his eyes soften just a little, a thing only his dying wife seemed to notice.

It seemed to be enough for her. She let her hand go limp in his, and within minutes, she was gone. Just like that.

In the next second, Bhalla was up, wiping his hands off Arpana’s sweat and blood on the sheets.

“Find a wet nurse and nanny for the baby, and prepare the body for final rites,” he curtly instructed as he left the chamber, heading towards his own. There nothing much else to say or do, really. Death wasn't an uncommon phenomenon; if you were weak enough to let it get to you, well, then you deserve the death. So Arpana…she perhaps deserved it. Who knew.

And yet, his heart sunk a little. The unlikely solace he had found in this timid young woman he called his wife was something he might miss someday, he guessed. When she listened to his drunken rambles because she _wanted_ to and not because she _needed_ to. When she somehow found his stash of poems that he had scribbled out of boredom and read them eagerly, as if she _liked_ them. When she countered his anger with an unwavering sense of calm that he both hated and secretly admired a little.

Bhalla clenched his jaw as he entered his private chamber. To think his mind was ridden with a woman’s memories. Absolutely sickening. He grabbed his pitcher of wine and poured himself a goblet of it. The night was still young. Perhaps he could call for the cream of the crop from the whore house that was a little off the town centre…ah, that sounded like a fantastic idea. He turned a little and glanced at the brand new silk sheets his servants had decided to use today. A woman would adorn the bed this cold night, that was for sure.  Hell, a thousand others like her might warm his bed tomorrow, the day after, and for years more from this very moment.

But would they ever be the quiet, soulful companion Arpana was?

He didn’t think so. And neither did he care anymore.

 

**Author's Note:**

> While I wanted to write on the sidelined character, I wanted to also explore a little on Bhalla's thoughts about her. So this ended up being a drabble from his POV instead of hers. Also, I have never written on Bhalla before, so I hope his character here is canon compliant. 
> 
> Hope you liked it!


End file.
